Heartbreak Hotel
by SilkenBone922
Summary: The Paris Ritz-He was a pretty and polite as Nate,as bad and sexy as Chuck and as intelligent and soulful as Dan. She flinched when he smiled because he could break her heart three times over.Blair/Jess-Gilmore Girls cross over.
1. Chapter 1

The Paris Ritz

The Paris Ritz

Contrary to popular belief Blair Waldorf _could_ be nice. At times. To certain people. In certain situations. When she felt like it. Dashing young men trying to get their point across to the concierge in broken French that smacked strongly of her native shores was one of such situations.

It would be inhuman to leave the poor boy struggling. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was alone in the city of love because Dan Humphrey of all people had just dumped her and jetted back to New York and right now she couldn't remember why she was even dating Serena's ex from _**Brooklyn**_. And she missed Nate, who was also in France, by the way and hence much too close for comfort. And Chuck had called to nights ago for some kind of transcontinental booty call. And she had her vulnerable eyes that had snared each of them in the first place because truthfully, Blair likes to move on _fast_ and this guy was there at the Ritz and his shoes were really nice and now he was thanking her for stepping in and saving him and she was stumbling over "You're welcome" without even trying.

He was a pretty and polite as Nate, as bad and sexy as Chuck and as intelligent and soulful as Dan. She flinched when he smiled because he could break her heart three times over.

He was cursing himself the moment she spoke because he could tell he was money. _Big, old_ money. She spoke the Queen's English but with an all American accent that was the exclusive trademark of the typical Ivy league East Coast housewife. And then his eyes met hers because she finally raised her downcast gaze from an earnest perusal of his shoes.

They were dark and brown and broken and it was like looking into a bloody mirror and his heart stopped because all of a sudden he can't even remember who Rory Gilmore is and it's the first time in so many years that he's had that freedom and he feels like he can breathe again.

Then that girl- Blair, she introduces herself and it's such a crisp name, reeking of the brains and beauty package he already knows she is- smiles and withdraws. She gently rejected his offer of a drink but he sees her move toward the bar any way.

"As your damsel in distress, I surely owe you a drink," he insists following her to the oak counter and pulling out her stool for her.

Her raised eyebrow and cavalier smirk belied the hurt eyes. He empathized with her frustration. The best way to get over some one was to get under someone else and while this hadn't worked for him, he was willing to help this girl give it a try if she wanted.

The signs were evident. Her eyes were immaculately lined with black but se couldn't get rid of the red rim that a nights crying had gifted. She was twisting her little ruby ring around her finger and couldn't stop biting her lower lip. Her gaze wavered between him and the door as though trying to collect her thoughts to decide.

She was snotty, bitchy and obviously heart broken. He didn't care. All he knew was she made him forget the one that got away and he figured he owed her one for that. So if she wanted a quick fuck it wouldn't be much of a hardship because she was lovely really and he couldn't keep his eyes off her legs.

So in the end he made the decision for her, gently taking her arm through his and leading her away. They were both adults they both knew what was happening.

Back in her room, Blair looked nervous. The min bar rivalled that of his local pub. She poured him a Martini, shaken not stirred and he wondered how she knew. She looked straight at him over her Scotch, stealing his breath again. He made a strangled noise deep in his throat and reached for her, sliding his fingers into her hair and drawing her closer.

She set her own drink down, slamming it down with and urgency that matched his. The air crackled between them and she hesitated, holding back.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly. He didn't want to break the spell that her dark gaze had him under.

"I don't do this." She disentangled herself from his gaze.

She gulped down her drink. "I'm Blair Waldorf. And I don't hook up with random nameless stranger. Even if I did Dan, I'm still a Waldorf and I don't do this. No matter how cute the random stranger may be."

It came out in mumble. He grinned at the reference to his looks and rose in fluid movement out of the door before she could say another word. "Good night, Princess."


	2. Chapter 2

Parisian dawn was as breathtaking as she remembered and its beauty took away a little bit of the sting that she was enjoying her champagne breakfast alone

Parisian dawn was as breathtaking as she remembered and its beauty took away a little bit of the sting that she was enjoying her champagne breakfast alone.

She had taken a good look at herself in the mirror before leaving the room and had almost cried with embarrassment. Her bleary eyed, tear streaked visage looked as if it belonged in a horror movie. If memory served there had been a very handsome young stranger in her room last night.

She had rebuffed him, even after doing the whole doe eyed thing with the Grey Goose Martinis and the cute little burp. It had seemed like the perfect rebound thing- a quick fuck to get over Dan Humphrey who had stomped all over her heart. The pain of the break up was magnified by the news of Nate's engagement and a persistent voice in the back of her head that said it should have been her. Or it could just be the fact that she hadn't seen Chuck, with whom she'd admittedly had the best sex of her life, in three years and she was still distraught by the fact that she hadn't been able to change him.

She hadn't been worth the price of all the other women she demanded he give up in order to be with her, she hadn't been worth the Vanderbilt ring and she hadn't been worthy of the boy from Brooklyn either. It was all very tragic and disheartening.

The day was not slated to improve. She had a meeting with her agent at 5. There was a high profile party next week that she was expected to attend and her performance there was to determine the future of her career. A stellar act and the coveted Vanity Fair gig was hers,

Dan was supposed to attend it with her and for once he would fit right in with the image she wanted to project. Literary and smart. They had joked in bed about it bed amidst her thousand count sheets, laughing over how appalled Eleanor would be if she knew that association with a lowly Humphrey was actually good press now that he was a hot shot writer.

So after four Audrey movies and a new pair of shoes, Blair finally felt up to keeping the appointment. She waltzed down the stairs, primped to perfection ready to break the news.

"Oh, thank God you're here, Blair," cried Lorraine, the moment she laid eyes on her, "I have terrible news."

"What's wrong?"

"There's another contender for the slot. You're slot. It's Georgina Sparks, honey and she's bringing out the big guns."

"What?" Blair blanched, her alarm growing with each passing second. How could it be that even a thousand miles away from home the New York bitches were still messing with her! Could Georgina even _spell_ Vanity Fair?

"She's bringing some rock star to the party. Thank God, you have your writer boy. We need someone like that. Dark, smouldering and brooding. If this Mr Darcy of yours really is as special as you made him sound it will make her little stunt seem cheap and trite in comparison."

"About that..." Blair attempted to interject.

"Look, honey. I know you want this job. But you're Blair Waldorf and you're conservative and classy and that's excellent but they don't want anyone stuffy. It's bad for their rep."

And all of a sudden there are tears welling up in her eyes because Lorraine's words are an echo of what Yale's Dean said. Once again, the picture perfect charade that she had so carefully maintained was failing her.

"Where's this Norman Mailer of yours?"

Through the drumming in her ears, she could hear a newspaper rustle and fall to the floor and the hands that had let it slip were now hooked around her waist. Her head whipped around as her almost lover from the night before tugged her small body into his frame.

"Hello, gorgeous," he whispered in her ear and she thought she really must be desperately horny if his voice could flip her stomach even when her entire future was on the line, "This nice lady bothering you?"

"Oh my God," yelped Lorraine- surprisingly short of words for a woman who spent all her days refusing to be shut up.

"Jess Mariano" he introduced himself, pleasantly, turning on the charm.

"Blair, why didn't you tell me that Mr Mariano was your date?" Lorraine seemed to be on the verge of hyperventilation as she shook the man- Jess' – hand rather violently.

Since at the current moment Blair couldn't concentrate on much besides the chine pressed into her hair and how good the Mr Mariano behind her smelt, she only nodded in bliss. The repetitive motion shook her out of her trance. Jess Mariano sounded like an awfully familiar name.

The paper back on her bedside table and the memory of last night's events hit her with full force. Oh Lord. _Tha_t Jess Mariano. And then just as it seemed her knees were about to give way beneath her that very same Jess Mariano tightened his hold on her.

This was going to be one hell of a party.


	3. Chapter 3

Blair could feel her pulse speed up as the garrulous publicist walked away

Blair could feel her pulse speed up as the garrulous publicist walked away. She whipped her head around to look at her knight in shining armour, yanking herself out of his arms in the process.

He seemed unfazed by her reaction. "From distressed damsel to saviour in one night, eh?" he mused, looking pleasantly surprised with himself, "How do you like that, Miss Waldorf?"

"Jess Mariano." It was a whisper and Jess found himself inadvertently loving the way she said his name. There was no disdain, no girlish reverence. Just awe and little anger at having been duped.

She snapped back her had which he still cradled in his own. Her gaze shot back to his face and she found herself searching for a spark of the brilliance she had founding in the small novel that Dan had given her last Christmas. It's a sweet memory one that ought to make her heart wrench. He'd left the book on her nightstand with red roses and a cup of morning coffee and the inscription said "I love you." And it was the first time he'd ever expressed that sentiment and it had made her giggle like a school girl when she read it at the crack of dawn, lying in bed with the memory of his warm body pressed in to hers.

But she's not even thinking about Dan as she looks up at the guy next to her and its like she's never seen him before in her life. Without the shady lighting of their previous rendezvous she can see the sharp planes of his face clearly and the light of day illuminates the spark in his eyes. She can't think about how handsome he is because there are more urgent matters at hand and if she'd often wondered what it felt like to stand before Charles Dickens she'd never have bargained on it being this nervous. The author of Great Expectations may have intimidated her but she was fairly sure he would be incapable of staring at her with that look on his face like he was trying to decide whether she was as amusing as she was sexy.

It made her a little flushed to perfectly honest.

"I read your book," she says and immediately wants to smack herself. Of course she's read his book. Who hasn't? He can't possibly be expected to understand the implications of her words. She read his book and it's the only thing she'd ever read that wasn't a romance but she liked it anyway. It was the only one of Dan's little gifts that she hadn't chucked over board on the ferry from London.

But somehow and she's not she'll ever figure out how exactly but he gets it. He gives her this smile- Its half grin, half smirk and her stomach flips at the sight of it. But she knows that he understands and so she pulls herself together and thanks him for his little favour. Just in time really- a few more moments of that and she'd be no more than a puddle at his feet.

He offers to take her out to dinner. To strategize, he says but there's a devil's twist to his grin now and a leer in his eyes. "Pick me up at eight," is all she can manage. She thanks the holy powers that he already knows her room number so that she can get out of there while her knees are still intact.

She likes his knock. It's firm and demanding and right on time. She's surprised by his punctuality. He walks in just as she's putting on her earrings and his low whistle when he sees her is gratifying.

His lips brush against her cheek and that tingling feeling starts up again and she can't really remember the last time she was with anyone where it felt so casual and right. Someone who wasn't a part of her messed up past.

They strategize over dinner, keeping up the pretence that this isn't really a date. He resists the impulse to kiss her over the table top and she stops her foot from drifting towards his. It's not really that hard to concentrate on the conversation, because truthfully she's a lot more interesting than he'd previously given her credit for.

He walks her back to her room. They don't kiss but the brief flash of gratitude in her eyes is genuine as she thanks him for the evening. The haughty mask drops for so brief a second he barely has time to register it. But there she is. The broken glass beauty, staring at him through Blair Waldorf's eyes.

So he asks if he can come in and she nods. There is finality as the door closes behind them. It's like they're stepping into a new world and leaving the old behind. Because her eyes tell him that in that one instant she's seen more of him than Rory Gilmore could see in a million years. And he's not about to let something wonderful- someone wonderful pass through his fingers. Not again.


	4. Chapter 4

They say third times a charm. They, thought Jess Mariano, had better be right. He had gained entrance to the Promised Land [a.k.a Blair Waldorf's hotel room] twice in the three short days he'd known her and each night had been in vain.

His second attempt had ended with her phone ringing before he could even kiss her and someone named Serena whisked away her attention. Blair wasn't crying but Jess' eyes flicked over her room and landed on a Yale sweatshirt draped over her trunk. His churning stomach wouldn't let him go any further.

Despite the fact that their lips had yet to meet he found himself consumed with thoughts of the heiress at every moment they were apart. It was a strange feeling and it threw him off guard. It had been many years since he'd loved Little Rory Gilmore and a follow up to his devotion to her had been hard to find.

Blair Waldorf was not the answer. She was snobby and she was manipulative and the only reason she was even giving him the time of the day was because he was willing to pawn himself for a night of society.

He shook his head at himself. He really couldn't remember the last time he'd gone to such extraordinary lengths to get in a girl's pants.

So here he was now. All zipped up into a monkey suit. Waiting to take her to the Vanity Fair party. He poured himself a drink while he held his vigil and it was only when she made her appearance that he realizes drinking on the job was a mistake.

The contents in his glass shake in his throat the moment she descends those stairs. The glass of red wine he's been studiously nursing is abandoned and very quickly forgotten because who needs alcohol when Blair Waldorf's mere presence serves to intoxicate him.

The beautiful, beguiling _bitch_ is wearing red. The silken gown hangs from her slender form by a pair of paltry straps, the discreetly revealing neckline was lined with satin and the cord that held it all together is tied low at her hips. She was breath taking- gushy as it may sound and his heart stopped at the sight of her smile, her swaying form floating towards him.

It was shy- _tentative_- and grateful as she placed a hand on his arm. "Shall we?" she murmured, when it seemed like he was incapable of doing anything but drink her in.

The ball was already in full swing by the time they made their entrance and all heads swiveled around to look at them as he led her into the room.

Blair's practiced eye scanned the room, seeking out her target. The editors. The elitist group, stood in the center of the hall and Georgina Sparks and her crumbling rock star were already in their midst. She suppresses her shudder when she spies her old enemy in the crowd.

Blue eyes meet brown and Jess feels her grip on his arm tighten as Ms. Sparks and her septuagenarian boyfriend walks towards them. He casts a disinterested eye over the new girl's scrawny frame and her sexy black dress, marveling at how the elegant self possessed woman on his arm could possibly be threatened by someone so clearly inferior. He whispers as much in here, smiling down at her and watching her eyes widen.

He curses himself because the possessive pride with which he speaks his words is so eerily reminiscent to that of a smitten man and she can tell this too. But it warms her to her toes so that she goes up there, casually slipping into the group and getting what wants. It's the politest catfight he's ever seen.

Blair is the clear victor and he basks in the glow of her beaming smile when she throws a wink at him over one shoulder and the other girl is squirming out of the fray.

Before he knows what's hit him, Georgina Sparks has. Her thin fingers rest on his arm as she introduces herself, leaning forward and whispering suggestively in her husky voice. He found himself immune to her allure, her sultry scent, her cleavage, her hypnotic blue eyes and wondered how.

A glance to the floor revealed the answer. Blair Waldorf was breaking away from the crowd and is walking his way, till she spots the brunette on his arm and quickly begins to walk away.

Jess doesn't know how he manages to disentangle himself from Georgina's grip but he does and he's dashing after Blair. He's calling her name and she's stalking away like she doesn't want to hear, her heels stabbing into the plush carpet like she's stomping all of his heart.

They are both out of breath when he catches up with her. "Are you jealous?" he asks, even though he knows it's a stupid, _stupid_ question.

"What?" she gasps, her ruby lips parting in shock and embarrassment, "No! I'm just surprised that you would flirt with another girl when you're here as my date. It doesn't look good." She has some speech in her head about how a boy from Philadelphia could never have been a high society escort in the first place but his proximity confuses her.

She turns to move away again, but his hand is on her arm, tugging her into him. He bends his head and his lips are on hers before she can say "Whoregina". A shiver of excitement runs through his body when she pulls closer instead of pulling away, her arms winding around his neck.

His hand is resting on the small of her back and their mouths are fastened together, and through the rush of blood they both hear the announcement. Blair Waldorf just landed her dream job. And Jess Mariano.


End file.
